Stalkers in the Dust
by Korwyn
Summary: This is the first fanfiction I have had the courage to post, all constructive criticisms are gratefully received. This story is a small out take of a larger story I am working on about a reluctant Guardsmen, Jekk. His reluctance has earned him the enmity of the regiments officers, his skills and augmentation has earned him a place in the Sentinel Scout Squadron.


Stalkers in the Dust

There are those who say war is hell. They are fools. Waiting is hell. War, war is just work.

The wait. How Lance Sergeant Jekk hates the wait. He hates it almost as much as he fears what comes after. War, the release of weeks, months of tension.

He and his squadron had been on their current sortie for four days now, fours days of little sleep and no contact with the enemy. They had caught fleeting auspex signal, there and then gone, but nothing solid, not until five minutes ago.

The Auspex was jumping, unsurprising on a planet wrapped in what appeared to be a perpetual dust storm, but still showed a large contact dead ahead, moving left to right. Supply convoy. Or so the intel said. But He had survived the Guard long enough to know the intel was to be taken with a pinch and often a rock of salt. Still, only one way to find out for sure.

The plan was a well practised one; as squadron leader he would make the first kill, the vanguard vehicle. That stopped the convoy and in these conditions with visibility down to twenty meters the rest on the convoy might not even know they were under attack at first.

Jekk's second, Lancer Hind, would then cripple or kill the rear vehicle boxing the convoy in temporarily. The third and final member of the squadron, Lancer Brecht would then strafe the convoy from front to rear. It might seem strange to approach a convoy from the front, the direction in which most of their weapons would be pointing, but in the dust they would only see Brecht at the last moment, exposing him to as little return fire as possible; if he was to run from rear to front, the enemy would have longer to aim, should they survive, and would have a clear shot at his back where the armour of his ride was thinnest.

Jekk felt the tension build to almost unbearable levels. His ride was keeping pace with the convoy now, his squadron mates were in position, the wait was over. Thank the Emperor, time to go to work. He jammed the throttle to full stride and the tension melted away. He hardly noticed the change in gait, he and his ride were flying over the dust and sand that appear to entirely cover this world, and a savage grin was pulled taut over his features. His eyes were closed, but he saw through the machine's eyes, thanks to his unusual blessing from the techpriest's. Something that still held no small measure of awe for him. He and his ride were now one, and they had some rage to express. He could feel the build up of heat in the multimelta as if he were clutching a red hot coal, the steady thump of the sentinel's legs carrying them towards vanguard at remarkable speed. The dust in front of him grew darker, a dark grey line, as he got closer they grew darker still and began to become separate patches of darkened dust.

The vanguard, the first to die. He adjusted his course slightly so as to pass just in front of the lead vehicle. He could see frantic movement on the hull now, the crew must have been sheltering from the storm and only now scrambling for their defensive guns. Too late. As he passed within five meters of the lead vehicle, a heavy hauler, he unleashed the fury of his multimelta; the weapon superheated the air, causing the dust between the weapon muzzle and the engine of the lead vehicle to flare, burning once more as the last combustibles were finally exhausted. The engine cowling vaporised instantly, the engine block within lasted a fraction of a second longer before melting and then detonation in spectacular fashion. "M-kill confirmed on lead vehicle!" breaking vox silence, no need for it now the enemy knew they were here. An M-Kill was a Mobility Kill, a vehicle that had been so badly damaged that it could no longer move under its own power. A line of heavy stubber fire began to stitch its way toward Jekk's rapidly disappearing sentinel when the fuel line leading to the haulers ample fuel tank ruptured and the entire hauler exploded with thunderous force. The shockwave staggered Jekk's sentinel, threatening to trip it, but he righted the machine with a burst of speed. He could barely hear his victory yell over the concussion. K-Kill (Kill-Kill, Guard logic).

He jinked and weaved, altering speed and direction at random; he was pretty sure no-one had got a bead on him but there was no sense in making himself an easy target if they had.

"M-Kill, rear vehicle" Hind reported over the vox. Jekk arched around to the left, running anti clockwise around the convoy; he and Hind would circle to see if any vehicle broke formation and tried to make a run for it while Brecht made his strafing run.

Seconds later as Brecht was shouting into the vox "Tank! Tank! Ta..." his transmission was abruptly cut off by an explosion as all telemetry from his ride flatlined.

"Emperor's balls! Intel said nothing about heavy armour!" Hind shouted as the convoy lit up. Heavy stubber fire blossomed in all directions, cannon shot and las-beams streaked through the dust-choked air. Thankfully none found their mark.

"Thread the Needle, on my lead. Go now!" Jekk ordered. They had to do more damage to the convoy before they could withdraw otherwise they risked being followed and eventually run to ground. The only option was to do so much damage that it became impossible for the convoy to do anything but protect itself and limp to its destination. He thanked whichever tactician it was that determined that all squadrons should be armed with multimelta's; it made sense in an environment where ranges were limited to tens of meters, and the Guard and sense were often not great bedfellows. At least they had a chance to actually do some damage.

He poured on the speed and took a sharp left turn. Threading the needle was an extremely dangerous manoeuvre but a devastating effective one if pulled off. Two or more sentinels approached from opposite sides and ends of the convoy, one slightly ahead of the other. They would find (or make) holes in the convoy and pass through at high speed, causing as much damage on the way through as possible. As the defenders turned their guns on the first attacker the second would hit them, and the process was repeated. It helped to keep the defenders off balance and prevented them from determining how large the attacking force was.

The convoy was breaking up; sloppy skills. The best tactic to defend a convoy is to close ranks, circle the wagons if you will, the last thing a convoy wanted was a wolf amongst the flock. The convoy resolved in Jekk's from picter, he saw that their fire was random and not focused on him, even though plenty of stubber fire was coming close. He pushed the machine to top speed as he found his gap, three meters, no more, but it was enough. As he approached the gap he picked his target, a fuel trailer. He didn't want a direct hit, he needed a slow burn so he dropped his aim a fraction and slagged to rear axle. He registered the glow of the melting metal as he sped out the other side and the shape of a tank to his right; they were manoeuvring into defensive positions, he needed to dissuade them of that.

"One tank, rear right. Leman Russ equivalent," Jekk warned Hind. The fuel trailer picked that moment to give up its fight and a bright yellow mushroom cloud erupted in its place, painting the monochrome scene for a few seconds.

Hind made his pass, " One tank, front left. At least a few of these traitors know what they're doin'"

"Roger. Avoid the heavies, hit a few more convoy haulers and they'll cut and run" Jekk ordered.

The remaining two sentinels threaded the needle twice more before the convoy decided to cut its losses. On his last pass he saw one tank taking the lead and the rest of the haulers forming a ragged line after it. The other tank would be moving to the rear to cover the flight.

Jekk knew he should let them go, but his blood was up and he was pretty sure Brecht was dead, and he hadn't hated Brecht as much as most people he knew.

"Sirrus Two, we're separating the rearguard. I'll lead, go for the tracks." "Fuck. Roger, Sirrus One" Jekk sped in front of the rear guard tank, he could feel the turret tracking him, the shot landed meters behind him. With the enemy crew focused on killing Jekk, Hind came from the opposite side and multi'd the starboard track; molten metal and tread sections where thrown in all direction until the crew realised what had happened and killed forward momentum. The sponson lascannons scored bright lines in the dust, hoping to find a mark. The main cannon rotated slowly, saving its shot for when it was sure. The beast was wounded but still very dangerous; even a glancing hit from the main cannon would tear through a sentinel as if its armour were paper. The sentinels circled. They couldn't kill the beast with one blow, but small bites would do it too.

Jekk circled, as he tightened his arch he saw that the main cannon was pointing away from him, so he dived in, aiming for the joint between the turret and the main body. The beam found it's mark, metal liquefied and began to run. The traverse of the turret became laboured.

"Turrets damaged, watch those sponsons" Jekk warned Hind. The sponson lascannons, now the only effective weapons, were strobing the area surround the crippled tank. The turret had stopped moving as the metal had solidified forming a weld, fixing the turret at ten degrees to starboard.

The sponsons couldn't cover the full three hundred and sixty degrees, there are cones to the front and rear where no shot was possible. As Jekk stalked his sentinel along the rear cone to within ten meters he felt a sadness; these men had fought well, and their only crime was wanting to be free men, as he did. The tank driver couldn't see Jekk, but an instinct that had kept him alive until now kicked in and he jerked the tank a few degrees to the left, Jekk ignited his multimelta. He held the beam longer than he needed to. The rear of the tank was glowing slag, the crew most definitely dead. His vision was washed with the glow of their funeral pyre.

"K-Kill."


End file.
